Page 86 of Wrapped with a Beau

The coffee-and-amaretto panna cotta comes highly recommended by their waiter, a flirtatious young man who gives most of his attention to Veronica as though he knows where his tip is coming from. She sighs after him, stabbing her dessert spoon into the wibbly-wobbly cooked cream. “God, he would be an excellent lead in a rom-com. I should ask him if he’s interested in being an extra in something,” she muses. “You never know, he could be Netflix’s next darling. And I could be the one to discover him!”

Elisha’s amused despite herself, licking some of the chocolate syrup off the back of her spoon. Typical Veronica. She might be a shark, but she also goes after things pretty wholeheartedly for someone who claims she doesn’t even have one. “You do remember you’re not a casting agent, right?”

Veronica swats the air as if to ward away Elisha’s words. “I’m a little bit of everything.”

“Well, thank you for the offer, Veronica. I’m honored you still want me after you cleaned out half the office. And I’m not saying it’s a definitive no, but for now, I’m happy where I am.”

“You could be happier,” says Veronica. “Especially when I tell you that I don’t want you as just another one of my liaisons, Elisha. You whipped that office into shape. If you come on board, it will be as my partner. Well, not fifty-fifty, of course. Junior partner. Very junior. Seventy-thirty? Perhaps just twenty. We can negotiate later! Now, where’s that waiter, you simply must try one of these Negronis to celebrate.”

“Veronica, I haven’t said yes!” Elisha’s eyes widen. “We don’t have anything to celebrate!”

“You mean you—” Veronica’s hand limply drops into her lap. “You aren’t just playing hard to get?”

“Have you ever known me to play games?”

Veronica sniffs. “Who knows what habits you’ve picked up in Pokey Peaks.”

“Veronica.”

“Fine, fine. Piney Peaks. What if I said a seventy-thirty split was back on the table?”

“It’s not about the—”

“Twist my arm, why don’t you!” cries Veronica, smiling with all her teeth. “Fifty-fifty partnership.”

That was fast. Almost like it was what Veronica wanted all along. Elisha waits for her to take it back, to walk it back down, maybe offer ninety-ten in her usual blasé way.

Veronica waits, too, steadily meeting Elisha’s gaze over the rim of the Negroni she guzzles down, signaling for another as though negotiating is thirsty business and every second she spends in Elisha’s company dehydrates her further.

Elisha needs to confirm that this is for real. “You meant it about an equal partnership?”

“If I have to.” Veronica’s sigh is dramatic. “Now that you know all my cards, can we celebrate?”

Chapter Forty-Three

Ves

Ves is sure that something has Elisha spooked. She’s been acting oddly all day, and even though she’s physically right next to him, part of him feels like she never came back from lunch. He wants to smooth the pinch between her brows that reminds him of the quotations button on his keyboard, wants to anchor her to him when her eyes start to glaze over like she’s technically looking at the Fifth Avenue window displays but not really seeing them.

He’s not having fun, either. Which is annoying, yes, but bafflingly, he’s more upset for her sake. Because this is the exact kind of magical extravaganza she lives for: crystal snowflakes suspended from vaulted ceilings, frolicking woodland creatures, gumdrops and lollipops that look good enough to eat, heaps of that cottony fake snow, life-size animatronics, thousands of LED lights...

It’s one thing to catch her delighted gasps in his mouth when they’re in bed together, read the exhilaration racing in her eyes as she hurtles to the finish line seconds before him. Bringing her pleasure with the warm press of his body, the heat of his mouth and the thrust of his hips. But this is different.

He just wants to give her this simple, innocent enjoyment. And if his heart pounds like a whole herd of stampeding reindeer in anticipation of the enchantment on her face? Well, he’ll cherish that all through this cold winter and hold on to it in those quiet moments in the months to come when he finds himself imagining what color she’s painting her nails, where she is and who she’s with, whether she’s meeting strangers and turning them into friends with the same effortless ease with which she won over Ves.

“Is everything okay?” he asks delicately.

Elisha jerks back to him, lips twisting in an abashed smile. “Sorry, just work. I know, I know, I’m the worst! But I’m all yours now, promise.”

His own lips tic up. “So what you’re saying is your every thought is of me?”

“Eh,” she says with the biggest grin he’s ever seen. She threads her arm through his, pulling him closer. Whenever she does this, her feet tend to slant and he has to straighten their trajectory. He doesn’t mind; it’s just another way he finds himself adjusting to her. She squeezes his biceps. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

To be someone she thinks about with a frequent, horrendous regularity?

Yes, his brain whispers with no hesitation at all. He wants to be that person for someone with an intensity that should scare him, but it doesn’t. Which is itself scary. Because it makes him think that the reason he isn’t running in the opposite direction is her.

But he matches her levity when he says, “Maybe only every other thought. I’m not greedy.”

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